Chapter 37 Jealousy
The restaurant was elegant in the quiet, polished way only old money could afford.
Crystal chandeliers hung overhead, casting warm pools of light over white linen-covered tables. Soft music drifted through the air, mingling with the faint clink of cutlery and low murmurs of conversation. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city outside, the afternoon sun washing everything in gold.
Irene had never seen anything like it.
Or maybe she had.
She still couldn’t tell anymore.
Everything in this world was beautiful in a way that felt too perfect. Too carefully arranged. Like stepping into one of those rich-people romance dramas she used to secretly binge-watch while pretending she hated them.
Only now, she was in one.
And somehow, Nelson Clark was sitting right across from her.
Irene quickly looked down at her plate again, pretending to be deeply interested in her pasta... Nelson had ordered it for them.
Or maybe it was specifically for her because, although she wasn't a picky eater, pasta was one of favourites.
Irene was surprised at first as to how he knew what she wanted... But then she thought, 'Maybe the other Irene like pasta too.'
It was possible, so she didn't give it that much thought
Another reason why her brain wasn't working properly was because, She could still feel Nelson’s gaze from earlier.
The way he had looked at her outside the palace, his voice low and soft when he agreed to take her to eat first.
It had done something strange to her chest.
Something fluttery.
Something dangerous.
She hated it.
Or maybe she didn’t.
That was even worse.
William, blissfully unaware of the emotional crisis happening between the two adults, was happily digging into his food while talking about the fountain they had passed on the way there.
"And then the water went really high!" he said, lifting his fork dramatically. "Like this!" He sounded really happy.
Irene laughed softly, ignoring the weird feelings in her chest. "Really?" She hadn't seen the fountain... Maybe because she was too preoccupied in the car in trying to tame her fast beating heart.
"Yes!" William nodded. "And daddy said they change the lights at night."
"Oh." Irene’s eyes widened. "That sounds pretty."
"It is," Nelson said.
Her gaze lifted automatically.
He wasn’t looking at William. He was looking at her.
The restaurant suddenly felt warmer.
Irene’s fingers tightened around her fork.
She quickly looked away and stabbed at her pasta like it had personally offended her.
Why did he keep doing that? Why did he keep looking at her like that?
And why did her stomach keep flipping every time he did?
She wasn't his wife! She only looked like her.
She was sure Nelson must have understood by now, but it seemed as though, he hadn't.
This was bad.
Very bad.
Because Nelson Clark wasn’t supposed to make her feel anything.
No matyer which universe she was in... He was her high school bully, at least he had his face.
Her annoying, arrogant, insufferably handsome bully.
Not… whatever this was.
William suddenly wriggled in his chair, distracting Irene from her thoughts.
"Mummy."
Irene looked up, half listening. "Hm?"
"I want to pee." He said, his big blue eyes staring at her.
She blinked. "Oh."
Before she could stand, Nelson was already setting down his glass."I’ll take him."
William grinned. "Yay."
The kid sounded way too happy for someone who was just heading to a restroom. He had been really excited since the day begun.
Irene couldn't blame him. It was probably the first time in a while he was going on a trip with both parents.
Nelson stood and rounded the table. He ruffled William’s hair lightly before helping him down.
As he straightened, his eyes briefly met Irene’s.
"I’ll be back."
It was such a simple statement.
Yet Irene’s heart gave the most ridiculous little jump.
'God... Why?!'
She nodded quickly. "Okay."
William waved as Nelson led him away toward the back of the restaurant.
The moment they disappeared, Irene let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Good.
She needed a minute.
Even though it was just one... Just so she could breathe.
To remind herself that she was not some lovestruck fool getting flustered because a man looked at her for two seconds.
She was Irene, smart and sensible... Mostly
Her fork hovered halfway to her mouth as she tried to calm herself.
This was ridiculous.
Nelson was from a life she didn’t even understand. A version of herself she couldn’t remember. A marriage she still couldn’t fully believe was real.
He was kind now, yes. Soft, patient, annoyingly attractive.
But he wasn’t from her world. Wasn’t from her universe.
So why did it feel so easy to sit across from him?
Why did William make everything feel so natural?
Why did it feel...
"Excuse me." Someone suddenly interrupted her internal soliloquy. The voice was deep, smooth and entirely unfamiliar.
Irene nearly choked.
She coughed abruptly, setting her fork down as she looked up.
A man stood beside her table.
Handsome didn’t begin to cover it.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a dark fitted suit that looked expensive without trying too hard. His jaw was sharp, his features refined, and his dark hair was slightly tousled in a way that looked deliberate.
He was the kind of man women probably wrote songs about... Or regretted.
And he was smiling at her.
A very dangerous smile.
Irene blinked.
For a second, she forgot how to breathe.
The man’s smile widened slightly, amused by her stunned expression.
"Did a pretty woman like yourself really come to this restaurant alone?" She heard him ask her.
Irene stared.
Her brain, usually quick enough to fire back something witty, completely abandoned her.
Pretty woman?
Alone?
Was he talking to her?
He had to be.
There was no one else at the table.
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was dimly aware that this sort of thing should not be affecting her.
She had been flirted with before... A few times.
But this?
The man seemed to take her silence as encouragement.
He chuckled softly.
The sound was unfairly attractive.
Irene actually felt her stomach dip.
Oh no...
She was swooning.
Like one of those embarrassing female leads she used to laugh at in the novels she read.
Because of how boldly he walked towards her, Irene's first thought... when her brain began working again, was that maybe the man knew the other Irene.
From what she knew about that lady, it wasn't much of a stretch to say that maybe he was one of her lovers.
But from the way the man spoke, Irene knew that wasn't the case.
The man leaned slightly closer, just enough that she caught the clean scent of his cologne.
"I’ll take that look as yes."
That snapped Irene out of it... sort of.
"I..."
But before she could form a coherent sentence, he had already reached for one of the neatly folded napkins on the table.
Irene watched, still stunned, as he pulled a sleek black pen from the pocket of his jacket.
With easy confidence, he scribbled something down. Then he folded the napkin once and held it out to her.
His eyes held hers.
"Call me."
Irene looked at the napkin.
Then back at him.
Her pulse had become strangely loud in her ears.
The man smiled again... slow, devastating and entirely too sure of himself.
Then he straightened.
"Try not to keep me waiting too long."
And just like that, he turned and walked away.
Irene sat frozen.
Her fork lay abandoned on the table.
Her pasta had long been forgotten, her cheeks still warm
She stared at the napkin in her hand in shock...
Did that just happen?
This wasn't the first time she was seeing a handsome man. For fuck sake, Nelson was breathing... Maybe even more good looking than the man who just left.
But she had mostly hated him. In her eyes, Nelson wasn't that type of guy.
Well... That was until she came here and now her brain was muffled.
Irene shifted in her seat, she looked in the direction the man had gone, but he had already disappeared into the crowd.
A strange little thrill ran through her.
She hated that thrill.
She hated that she was smiling.
No.
Not smiling.
Just… mildly affected.
That was all.
She looked back at the napkin again.
The handwriting was neat and confident. Very annoyingly attractive handwriting.
She should throw it away.
Immediately.
Without thinking.
But instead, her fingers tightened around it.
As soon as she did that, she felt something shift in the air.
Like the temperature around her table had dropped.
Irene felt a shiver down her spine and she instinctly looked up. Her body froze in an instant.
Nelson was standing near the hallway leading to the restrooms.
William was beside him, holding his hand, while also looking at her... As though he was surprised... or rather, like he wasn't surprised.
Nelson was also staring at her.
No.
Not just at her.
But at the napkin in her hand, at the empty space beside her table here another man had stood just moments ago.
At her expression.
She knew that look.
It was jealousy.
Jealousy burned in his gaze so fiercely that Irene’s breath caught.
And for one dizzy second, Irene forgot every breath she’d ever taken.
Because the look on Nelson’s face...
This…
It familiar.